74/365

an avocado seed                       
hovers in the water
impaled by toothpicks            
slowly cracking,
it’s thin brown skin
peeling revealing
the promise of a root
from the darkness
of the splintering
crevices.
 
six japanese cucumbers
sliced into spears
ferment in jars
of brine thyme,
dill garlic
and peppercorns—
tiny aquarium replicas
of pond bottoms
and still river beds.

it is fullest
beneath the jowls
and around the chin,
medium bristles—
    a woodshed broom
salt and peppered
enveloping the lips
like baleen on a whale.

a sagacious man
ponders the spaces
during the intervals.
patiently
    observing
    the
    passing
    of
    time.

59/365

my finger tips
still smelled like
pepper corns
coriander seeds
garlic and dill
thyme and vinegar,
as they drummed
the steering wheel
after I dropped her off
to go thrift shopping
with friends.

i was blasting
black flag
and bikini kill songs,
on my way home—
earlier i had made a batch
of pickles
and the scents were fresh
and vibrant on
my hands. 

what's a better noun for wild than wildness?

and not like wilderness as in like a place,

but wildness,

as in somehting you harbor and cherish

inside yourself.

parenting is about
finding the right distance
between the wildest version of your self
and the most domesticated.

too close to the former sets a bad example
and can cause serious damage.

too close to the latter and it’s hard
to earn respect and be seen as fully human.